$30 Bills....

Today, I was at work (not my store, a store closer to a bad neighborhood) and this lady comes in to get some prescriptions. Now her prescriptions were five dollars mind you. And she had a Snuggie and a bottle of Jim Beam. And couldnt find $5 to pay for her prescriptions much less all of the above. And she's hunting in purse and pocket to find some money then she says and I quote "I have a twenty dollar bill and a thirty dollar bill and now I cant find either."

Now when I was younger, I didnt know they didnt make five-hundred dollar bills. I mean, why would I have, I had never seen $5o0 in my life, much less all in one bill.

But this is different. This woman was grown. And under the influence. Of what I am not exactly sure.

So I have to wonder... What makes people do this? I mean, I have been drunk. And I understand the social drinking. I understand having a couple to unwind at the end of a day. But I have never wanted to be out of control of my senses. On purpose. But this woman lost a thirty dollar bill. In the middle of the day. I just dont know...

Go Directly to Jail

So today we went to the County Corrections facility with our OTA program. The idea is that "Leisure" is an area of life that this particular population could use improvement in. Positive leisure if I may.
So we went. And we made hemp bracelets.
And it was strange. The participants were eager, polite and pleasant.
I have to go back in the spring. And I need a an idea. A crafty thing that we can do. That involves no sharp objects.
And Im actually looking forward to it.

A Look in the Glass...

Reflection.
Its supposed to be a good thing right?
Not your reflection in the glass, although, most days, I dont think thats half bad.
Im talking about reflection on your life.
I was just reading on a friends blog about an aspiration she has and what has or hasn't come of that desire.
So I look back too. The semester is coming to a close and my life is changing yet again.

This is what I have to say so far about this semester:

Positives:
I have learned so much about Occupational Therapy, I am really excited about where its going to take me.

I have worked full time and gone to school full time and have nothing lower than a B.

I was voted class president for our Student OT group. - Based purely on my ability to speak well in public I am sure.

I continued to serve Meals on Wheels regularly despite a very full schedule.

I volunteered for a research project at school and applied for a grant with my teammates to continue its research. Its about improving the lives of people in nursing homes. Thats worthwhile right?


Negatives:
So many other areas in my life have suffered due to my schedule:

I have only read two books outside of school this entire semester. (I am not counting re-reading HP)

Martha Stewart I am not. My house is gross. Ryan has had to do his own laundry several times because he had no socks.

I still have yet to start exercising. Free gym membership at school. I have never been once.

I still don't have an friends in this bleeding state. I mean, there are a couple I know, and I couple I hang out with, but nothing close to companionship.
(this probably has less to do with my schedule than my general personality)


So what does this mean? Whats the total of my life for the last 6 months? What have I accomplished? What difference have I made?

And when on Earth will I find the time to do anything about it?

Its funny the word home. What does it mean? Dictionary.com says its a persons dwelling, house apartment etc.
But it also says a persons native place.
My favorite by far is the one that says a destination or goal.
Heather Lee said something to me today about being at home. I was confused because I thought I was. But then she meant Eville. I mean, that is where I live, but is that my home. I understand what the Bible says about longing for home.
Driving these streets is soothing to my soul. This is where my life is. So where is my home.
Home is where you hang your hat. Home is where my love lives.
But home is not where I am. Apparently. Ever.

The life and times....

Does anyone else feel like they are old? I have noticed more and more my body is letting me down. I mean 30 is not so old on the grand scheme of things. But I cant imagine if things are changing this drastically at this age what they will be like when I am 60.
I mean my eyes are going. I shouldnt be surprised at this. Both my mother and my father wear glasses. But I am really annoyed that I cant read street signs anymore. Or even the board in the front of the class from time to time.
Also, I am tired. All the time. I dont remember ever really being tired until now. I mean sure, if I stayed up until 4, sure. But not because I stayed up to 11!

Becoming

You ever think about the people who have made you who you are?
I am eternally nostalgic because I fail to update my music collection and like most females I am emotionally tied to the soundtrack of my life.
Right now I have been listening to the Dresden Dolls repeatedly. I would not necessarily recommend them to anyone else, but they speak to me. Something in that womans writing resonates with me. Her attitude, her fierceness, her carelessness.
She wants to be careless. To experience life through mistakes.

I think about the mistakes I have made in my life. Most of them (other than the debt) I would not trade. The people I have loved (although I think I could have done without the gay guy) , the friends I have loved and lost, the opportunities I took and fell on my face. I am grateful for all of them.

I have been wanting to blog for a while about closure. About that time when you know a chapter of you life is over and what made you move one. Like the day you were no longer crushed by someone else's opinion. Or the moment you realize the man you loved for so long is not as great as you always thought. And how you move on. But I have not been able to. I have not moved on. I am not able to say that I have passed it. I suppose some wounds will never heal. Or maybe its just that you always have the scars. I am able to say that I have been changed. I can easily see the threads that have woven me being into the woman I am today. And I want to say someday that the truth of anatomy is the truth of my being.

The scars are the strongest part.

Dress for Success...

So on my Google homepage today there is this WikiHow:

http://www.wikihow.com/Be-a-Glamorous-1940s-Femme-Fatale

Before I go on, let me say, I love WikiHow. I love the idea of a daily how to improve or change your life. I love the idea of a small step by step guide on how to be new or different. I love Wikipedia.

I do not love the idea of people actually trying to dress like its the 194os everyday.

Dont get me wrong. If theres a thing, I will be the first one to donn the duds. Ask around. This chica does not need an excuse for a get up.

But this particular how to lists a couple of must haves that I simply cannot support.

Number one: Ditch your jeans. - And do the house work in what? Your skivvys?? This is not Stepford.
Number two: Donn a marlin spike. - Unless it is October 31, i dont think so.
Number three: Wrap yourself in fur - I say, if you are going the Golden Corral, you can leave the fur coat at home.

I guess my point is this, I am all about women looking feminine. I am trying to add more dresses to my wardrobe rotation. Looking pretty makes you feel good about yourself and towards the world.
If you want to adopt some of the more classic looks from the 40s (black eye liner, red lipstick, dark hair, chic clothes) I am all about it.

I just have to tell you Wiki, if you were a chick and I saw you in Evansville in an evening gown at the local walmart. I would have to mock and jeer.

Where have all the Conan gone?

Heard an interesting interview on NPR the other day on my way to work. A man, a retired military man (20 years active) has written at big thing (book, essay, something) about how the use of the word HERO is overwrought in America today especially amongst the military. He went on about his theory and what not and it was an interesting perspective but what got to me was this.

The definition of a hero goes something like this:

- a being of godlike prowess and beneficence who often came to be honored as a divinity.
- a warrior-chieftain of special strength, courage, or ability
- an immortal being; demigod

So we use this word today, HERO. And what does it mean? Nothing like that. It might be appropriate to say that someone acted heroically. But that someone is a Hero?
I am always amused by the changes in words their connotations and evolutions.

So why do we say that someone is a hero? Because we need them to still exist? I can't think of the last honest to God hero. Moses? Samson? The Apostles? Maybe just Jesus?
Is this one of those attempts to believe there is a little divinity in all of us? That any of us can be a hero? That a mere mortal might gain the title simply by choosing a more dangerous occupation?

Im kind of rambling I know. Its just a thought. Wheres the divinity? Wheres the honor? Wheres the calling? Where have all the cowboys gone?

Sing me a new song...

Do you know what I mean when I say I've lost my umph...? Its so very frustrating. Im not really sure what happened. It was there, and then it wasnt.
And I dont just mean my energy. I mean my joie de vive. I dont cook. I dont sing. Or if I do these things hold no pleasure for me. Even coming up with something to write about on here seems painful like a chore.

If I wasnt me I would say I'm depressed. I cant bring myself to use the word';im not really unhappy. Im just un-empassioned. My life lacks mania.

I am a straight un-ending line. I am the horizon.

What is Rock and Roll?

Do you ever stop to think about rock and roll?
I dont mean heavy metal or grunge rock, I mean the original rock and roll, the kind our parents listened too when they thought their parents were out of earshot.
Ever since I was little my did would stay up late with his albums (I really mean vinyl) and his headphones and listen to Bob Seger and Neil Diamond and Led Zeppelin.
I remember those times vividly because he was so engrossed in those songs, those times. I have to wonder what is it about rock n roll that was so life changing?
Now a days we have rap, gangster and otherwise, r & b, softrock, classic rock, alternative, ska, blues such a myriad of sound that it is impossible to even know what comes out on a regular basis.
Was music better in the says of Janis and Jimi and Dylan??
Do we not cling today to the hits of yesterday because they stopped making good music?
Will we sit with our CD's and listen for hours to the musical stylings of Marshall Mathers or the Killers or Kenny Chesney?
So few songs today have the staying power of The Watchtower or Bobby McGee.
I just wonder, did rock n roll die? Or is it just so dilute today that no one really cares.

Admiral Nelson

My cat is named after a horse. George Washington's white horse. The one in all the paintings.
While one name is often as good as another and being named after a horse has no bearing on my kitty, I often laugh at the choice.
Because my cat is not a cat. At least, I dont think he learned to be a cat. He is a cat that grew up with prairie dogs.

Nelson likes to talk - prairie dogs are very vocal
Nelson sits on his hind legs and surveys the land - essence of prairie dog
Nelson likes to play fight and will chase his own tail if left unattended - have you every watched p.d. cubs play?

In fact there are very few cat like things that Nelson does do.

Nelson drinks tomato juice.
He likes to roll in the dirt. And then not clean himself.
Nelson chews on shoes.
He likes to go for walks.

People get a cat because they want a cat who does cat like things.
It figures I would get a cat who doesnt even know how to do that...

Tuesdays with Morrie

Povich? a girl from my bio class asked. Ha!

Well if you haven't read the book join the club. Oh wait. Dangit!
So I have to read Tuesdays with Morrie for my Gerontology class.
I never wanted to read this book. I purposefully avoided reading this book. And now here I am, reading the book.
Why, you ask, do I feel so strongly about this book?
Well its about a man and his battle with ALS.
Its not even a battle so much as him looking at death and giving it a hug.
So he knows hes going to dies and he spends all of his time with friends and family and has a really positive out look on what is coming.

Ick.

Sun and Soil

Do you have a desire to grow things? I do. Something about the communion with the dirt. The sweat while your digging and eating things that you grew with your bare hands. And its the silliest thing because we all know what a short attention span I have. I kill things, I dont grow them.
But here we go again with a garden and my husband is humoring me.

Its probably because we have decided not to move from our terrible little apartment, for the duration of our lives in indiana and he wants me to be as comfortable as possible. Or maybe its as nostalgic for him as it is me. He had a garden when he was a kid too. We didnt always have a garden but I remember planting tomatoes and radishes with my dad a couple summers. It was always fun checking the plants together and waiting for the first fruits.

Ryan and I jest about moving to Uruguay to be farmers. They still have ranchers and farmers there that can support themselves. I told ryan I will go anywhere if it means I can have horses.
They still have cowboys in Uruguay. And its on the coast. Now if only I could learn to speak spanish.

The Bunny vs. The Fat Man

Well its Easter Sunday and most of you know what that means. Church will be filled with songs and songs joyous about the Risen Christ and that's benefits to you.

I hate Easter pageants. I cant even begin to tell you why. I love Christmas ones so its not the pageantry. And I love the theater. Because I love the acting and the costumes and the music. I begin to think that its the story which is silly. And then i think i find that its the celebration. The Easter is so happy.
Sure Hes risen and that means He did defeat death and what an enormous, glorious thing. In conceivable really. But what about the rest of it. There's the beating and the dying and the leaving us to our own devices where we immediately screw it up.

Yup, I prefer Christmas, that we just get to be thankful that he was sent. Joyful and humbled and in awe of the baby king.

Laughable

So I finally found my old blog. I had been hunting it for awhile.
The one I started when I left for Indiana the first time.

I just had to comment on this:

I'm sitting at Laura's house, ending one era, beginning another. Only a moment ago I wrote to Dr. 007 of aprehension. I've never had to make friends as an adult. I mean starting from scratch. Tara left for school, I still had Chris and I met Laura before he left for college. Anyways, I won't call it fear, because I am not afraid, (afterall, who wouldn't love me!) but it is there, with its uncertainty none the less.

Afterall who wouldnt love me. HA such optimism from the 25 year old me. I was fun and fabulous.
And after 3 years in Indiana I still dont have a single friend.
So I have to ask, Is it me? Or is it Indiana?
I mean sure I was single then, much more apt to go and do.
I was much less cynical, (thank you Ryan) and liked people in general more.
But I was also less sure of myself and apt to spend hours investing in people who really didnt interest me because I was afraid to be alone.
Is that quality? Is that what I want out of a relationship? Am I not allowed to have standards?
Obviously you cant have standards and friends both. *Sigh*

The Sameness

I just stole this from someone else's blog...

I've broken 3 things in the past 24 hours. Unbelievable.

Sad. Distressed. Downhearted. That would be a good description of myself. I just broke the space bar on my keyboard. So that makes 4 things.

I've had two hysterical meltdowns two days in a row.

Blah.

In the car I sang over and over today, "Arise, Arise, Arise, Arise my soul arise." It was a good reminder. Get out of this funk and gloom.

I ache so bad I'm afraid I will implode or lose my mind.

It resounded so deeply in my spirit. I feel the labor just to move. The desperation of "why?" And of "what good". It fills me so wholly to know that it is not just me. That these struggles, these lies and mistrusts assail us all.

So thank you Jennifer, thank you for being real and for reminding me that I am not alone.
And hell, i might even just be normal.

When did we grow up?

Who was the last friend you made?
Do you stop making friends at some point?
Children have BEST FRIENDS but adults rarely do, why is this?
Is it because we have spouses with whom we are expected to share our deepest darkest?
Or because we become so complex one person can't do the job?
Or do we age beyond selfless devotion?

I love to see the desire for love in other people. For some its a simple manifestation of eagerness. For others its an irritating gooey slop which they feel the need to share in hopes that you'll
reciprocate. And then there are rebels. The girl in my biology class with her danzig t-shirt and kool-aid stained hair who really just wants to be a Disney princess. The guy we all know that can't stand anyone anyone, but really really wants to be your friend.

The desire to bond is strong. The ability is so flawed.

Easy as 1, 2, 3...

Last night I made a pot roast. As I was cooking it, I was watching some food network shows that I dont normally watch and i happened upon a recipe for popovers that changed my life.

I have always wanted to try popovers. But they kinda look complicated and fussy and you gotta print the recipe and have the time etc...

Then the chick on TV says... "its 2 eggs, 2tsp of melted butter, 1 cup of milk and 1 cup of flour"
blend and your done.
How hard is that? So I made some...

Now my thought is, why do we not reduce everything in life to simple forms? Other recipes id seen called for these odd quantities and special instructions... If thats really all it took, 2+2+1+1 well anyone should be able to make popovers... and a bet more people would try.

Go ask Alice....

I went to see Alice in Wonderland this past weekend. Of course I enjoyed it thoroughly, but then there are few things Tim Burton that I dont love. Ryan and I got to discussing the symbolism, or implied symbolism in the book/movie. (I love how a piece of literature is dissected by third parties years later and said to mean things I bet they never did).
Does the Jabberwocky represent traditional female roles? Husbands? Penises? Why did Disney introduce playing cards into the cartoon version? What happened to the Walrus and the Carpenter?

At the end of the movie, Alice decides not to marry the wealthy but awful young man who has asked for her hand but instead pursues business and engages in building trade with China.
Throughout the movie the young Alice romps sans corset and stockings.

So this is my thought for today... This is independence no? Alice believes in impossible things. She has vision beyond matrimony and society. And she throws off convention with abandon to pursue the impossible.
Does she disobey her mother in turning down her proposal, yes. Does she act improperly by choosing business over motherhood?

Is this a feminist hollywood american dream? Is this a shiny hope of prosperity silently undermining our ability to be content with hearth and home? Are we learning to resent conventional wisdom and trust our "inner guide" one hour of conditioning at time?

Or is it even wrong to lose the corset and stockings? So some small minded gossips will talk about how they might see our shins? Are we so afraid of questioning our conventional wisdom that we tow a line, to a party, a dogma, a tradition that we fear to evaluate what we really think. Or maybe we shouldnt think.

Nutrition

I am toying with the idea of getting a minor in Nutrition. I love food. We all know this. Love to cook, love to eat, love to talk to other people about cooking and eating...(Aside, my mother just sent me a chocolate bar from this company called Bloomsbury. It is the best chocolate I have ever eaten.) So I am thinking, nutrition is something that will easily fit into my health care major, many of my nutrition classes will also be accepted as electives for my BS and I will get to study food and the body and stay engrossed in one of the things I really care about.
I am taking a nutrition class this semester (btw, my teacher is a customer at my store, I hope I was nice to her) so we will see how we like it.

I wish I was a neat freak.

I really really do. But i am not. Neither is my husband. In fact, we are both pretty messy. As I sit here typing, on my desk is a bag of starbursts he is currently eating, a chocolate bar that I am grazing. Now these items are in use, so thats not so bad, but when we add them to the sleeve of ritz crackers that I didnt put away three nights ago, the bottle of hot sauce that seems to keep aparating no matter how often I put it away and the three water bottles that are at various stages of being consumed, you begin to see that we have a problem.
There is christmas ribbon that didnt make it in the box with the paper, my camera, change from someone's emptied pockets, a school schedule, a camera, a pen cup, a bottle of lotion and a remote control. And the desk is no isolated incident.

So this is bad right?

The saving grace of my marriage (well one, there are probably several) is that neither Ryan nor I have a chore distribution paradigm. The house looks like what it looks like. Inevitably, I will get tired of the mess before he does and begin to pick things up. So eventually, the laundry will get done, the dishes washed, and the kitchen and the bathroom cleaned.
He doesnt expect that any of these things ever be done so if I do them fine, if not, they can keep until it gets gross enough that he decides to do it. Circle back to the inevitable I will get disgusted long before he will...

I am fine with this. As long as he poses no expectation that I pick up after him on his schdule, I am content to do it whenever I am in the "picking up mood".

The problem is... The mood is not something I am in on a day to day basis.
I like cleaning days. I like to start when I wake up, open the windows, turn on the radio and spend 4 to 5 hours at a pace working from one end to the other. I never get to do this on a 9-to -5 so I just can never get motivated to do much of anything.

After all... its not like i have friends over. For that matter its not like I have friends here.

Is cleanliness still next to godliness if there is no one to hear the cleanliness fall in the forrest?

When I grow up...

Do we ever become? Even now as I have finally committed to an academic program and am on a path, I find myself suddenly unsatisfied with it.
I was talking to my mother the other day about my OTA program and what the timeline will be like. I will find out in February if I am selected to start in the fall.
"What happens if you dont get in?" she says to me.

A perfectly legitimate question I suppose. But I didnt have an answer. Not get in? Who are you talking about here because I know you dont mean me.
But then I had to think about it. What am I going to do if I dont get accepted to this program? A program that will graduate me with an associates degree no less. Ha.
I suppose I just keep plugging along with the classes I need for my Bachelors. Pick up a minor perhaps? But what in? Dietetics so I have an excuse to study food? I would rather be in culinary school I think we all can admit that, but who wants to work in a restaurant for 80 hours a week?

I mean, I would like to have a little breakfast and lunch diner that served pies. Not just sweet pies of course but quiches and ham and cheese pies and spaghetti pies and everything you can imagine in a pie shell. It would only be open for breakfast and lunch. The kinda place where all the old men come in the morning to sit and drink coffee you know? Not that you need a college degree for that... but you do need a benefactor right? And since I am minus a sugar daddy and refuse to scrub out my husband for the life insurance money ( not that he hasnt offered ) ....

I miss blogging. Heather Lee said today that she wouldnt read my journal because it would be boring. Then after discussion, not because the material would be boring but more because the pages would be blank. I began to ask myself, do I not blog anymore because I have nothing to say?? Rarely do I have nothing to say so that cannot be it. Do I suffer the same ill feelings towards my cyber journal as she... that I have allowed it to become a medium for my own bellyaching and less as a creative, thoughtful exercise?